Day 5: September 30
A little R and R
I alluded to today in my earlier post, but I thought I would give some details now. First however, I would just like to thank everyone that has already obeyed the second sentence of this trip: You give. So many people have already given an overwhelming amount. There are many causes one could support nowadays, and I personally thank you for supporting Beautiful Gate South Africa.
On to the nitty gritty. We woke up pretty early today; an easy task seeing as how trains kept us up all night. We planned for a pretty easy day, just 50 miles to Gila Bend, AZ. Starting at 7:30, we rolled onto highway 8. Most of the ride today was desert with a pretty cool (not literally) stretch of lava land. It was as if we were on the surface of Mars. I’ve never been to Mars, but lets just say for the sake of argument, that Mars is full of lava flow and heat.
I have noticed that the days are starting to melt together, which makes me more and more thankful for this blog. Even if no one reads this, I can come back and take a gander when my hair is grey and my craziness has evolved to some greater level.
Around noon, we rolled into our final destination of Gila Bend. Gila Bend has crabs and shrimp. There is no water, but somehow they do it. Let me explain: the sign welcoming you into the city says something to the effect of “Gila Bend: Population of 1700 and 5 old crabs. Desert shrimp festival in November.”
As we rolled to the nearest Subway (Jared if you read this, can you hook us up with some free subs?), I got my first flat. No big deal. I was pretty hungry, so I just walked my bike towards the smell of honey oat bread and changed the tire later.
A couple of weeks ago, I called the mayor of Gila Bend to see if he could recommend places to stay. He called back and personally invited Jacques and I to stay at his house. What a treat! Seriously. He gave me directions to his house. Although I’m usually pretty good with directions, I was a little delirious and made my way to where I thought the mayor said his house was. Jacques and I biked to the front door of a dilapidated trailer, with plastic garbage bag windows, and appliances scattered throughout the yards. I had no clue what the Gila Bend mayor would be inhabiting, so I got off my bike. I looked around, with some helpful hints from Jacques that this didn’t look right, and remembered the mayor saying, “NOT the trailer park. The road after it.” Abort mission.
Jacques and I headed towards the correct mayor’s house, a large adobe style house on 22 acres. Dianne, the mayor’s wife, was home to welcome us. Ron, the mayor, joined shortly after. We were spoiled from that point on. Warm showers. Separate bedrooms. Free refills on water. Carne Esade and Cheese cake. Good conversation. Laundry. The works. Thank you Ron and Dianne for unbelievable hospitality!
Tomorrow: Tucson, not pronounced Tux-son. More like Too s-ON.
p.s. Thanks to Frannie the cat for the photo and Arthur for giving some wicked advice about cross country biking.
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